Patchwork
by athousandsmiles
Summary: A series of mostly unrelated drabbles and ficlets. All House/Cameron unless otherwise stated in the author's notes. Rating may change, but most of these are safe for kids and small pets. *wink*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The word prompt for this was "fair." I'm not terribly pleased with this one; I find drabbles to be very difficult to write. **

**Disclaimer: I own nada in the official House world.  
**

**(All my drabbles are unbeta-ed.)  
**

Fair

He's spent a fair amount of time thinking about her. And it's not just a matter of trying to figure her out, though that's certainly a part of it. It's also the hours spent contemplating the way her fair hair curls around her chin and brushes her cheeks, her pale, perfect heart-shaped face, and the little golden flecks in the blue of her eyes. She's reduced him to an internal jumble of romantic thoughts better suited to a teenage girl or a testosterone ridden boy. In the face of her beauty, logic falls to the shadowed corners of his active mind. And that's the problem. Because he's never been _that_ guy. Never really wanted to be.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Word prompt was "touch."**

Touch

Stacy was a challenge. Fiery and flirty and a bit selfish. It took some effort to get her into his bed, but once he did, she was as addicted as he was. But eventually the sparks of touch were doused by mistrust and bitterness. Cuddy was a sure thing. Easy to manipulate, despite her outer facade of strength and authority. The only fascination she held for him anymore was why; why did she always give in so easily? And then there was Cameron; a contradiction of stubbornness, fire, comfort, honesty and so many other things. When it came to women who held his interest, no other could touch her.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Word prompt was "intrigue."** **This is slight Cameron/Chase with a hint of Cameron/House.**

Intrigue

She can't be over him. It's not possible. His need for her has gone beyond, "It's Tuesday, I like you," now. Outside her window, he sits on the fire escape with only the stars to observe and wink at him with approval, and watches over her while she sleeps. He knows she dreams of him, her slender fingers gliding over bare skin, and he touches himself as if his hands are hers. She will be his again; it's only a matter of time. Until then, he's just making sure she's safe, he tells himself. He has to protect her from _him_ whether she knows it or not. That cane wielding bastard is just not good enough for her.

**A/N 2: This was something I almost made into a full story during season three when Chase was pulling his, "It's Tuesday" routine. I wondered what it would be like if he allowed his efforts at winning her back to escalate into something obsessive. I don't really think canon!Chase would stalk Cameron. It was just an idea I was toying with.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

Running

When she runs on her treadmill, she thinks. Mostly about House. Her brain is running faster than her feet and she loses all sense of time and distance. She composes clever notes to him, thinks up witty retorts and things she wishes she would have said, and wonders if he ever thinks of her in the same way. Sometimes she feels like a teenager with a crush and tries to banish all those thoughts from her head. But it's so much more than that. When she starts thinking about what it really is, that's when she knows it's time to stop running.

**A/N: Wrote this one well over a year ago. It's set in season three, when Cameron was still a brunette. Not that that is important. I just picture her with brown hair, running on her treadmill. That concludes my entirely pointless author's note. :-p**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This one is more of a ficlet. I wrote it after seeing _97 Seconds._**

Heaven

He went through the house and out the sliding door to the patio and spotted her standing in the back yard. She leaned against the fence, her white skirt brushing against her calves in the breeze, her feet bare and her hair loose around her shoulders. His stomach clenched with need and maybe even a little bit of desperation. He'd never thought he'd be the kind of guy that couldn't stop thinking of the woman he loved, but that's just who he'd become. Her smile actually brought physical pleasure to him. It scared him how much he needed her. It scared him that she probably didn't need him nearly as much.

And then she turned and smiled at him.

He found himself moving toward her, as she moved to meet him halfway. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as humanly possible, which wasn't nearly close enough. He wanted her to seep right into his veins so that he could carry her with him everywhere.

"I was just thinking about you," she murmured, nuzzling his neck and causing goosebumps to break out all over his body. All these years later, she still had that effect on him. He closed his eyes as pure pleasure swept over him, and on instinct lowered his lips to hers.

They moved together, lying down and making love right there in the grass, uncaring who saw them. Her skin was warm and smooth and sweet, like melted chocolate. He couldn't get enough of her. He had to taste every part of her and then go back and start all over. She was everything he thought he'd never wanted and then some.

She was Heaven.

And then he woke up. His hand burned, his leg throbbed, and Wilson was lecturing him about his stupid stunt, which was giving him a headache.

But still, he couldn't stop thinking of what he had seen and felt and before he knew what he was doing, he found himself softly saying, "I love you."

Fin

**A/N 2 I love that House told Wilson he loved him, so I almost hesitated to give it another meaning in this ficlet, but sometimes the story writes itself and there's no use fighting it.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This was written as a birthday gift for house_luvr, back in December of 2007. It's sickeningly sweet enough to cause tooth decay. Have your toothbrush handy. Also, the name Zoe means life.  
**

**Zoe**

"What are you staring at?" Cameron asked, barely squeezing her pregnant belly past him as he stood at the bathroom sink.

"The Ghost of Christmas past," House muttered, holding up an empty vial of Vicodin.

She ran her hand down his arm in a soothing motion and asked the question, even though she already knew the answer; he so rarely talked about his addiction. "You still have cravings after all this time?"

"Like a pregnant woman craves chocolate," he answered with a comical quirk of his lips, turning and wrapping his arms around her so that his hands rested on her swollen abdomen.

"It's worth it," he said to her worried reflection. "You and Zoe are worth it." And he turned her again so that he could lean down and kiss the spot where his baby girl resided in her mother's womb.

A few hours later they were rushing to the hospital to welcome Zoe into the world. A sweet baby girl with big blue eyes and a mewling cry that reminded him of kittens, which he would deny if ever asked.

"Merry Christmas," Cameron whispered, and raised the baby to his waiting arms. And when that pink wrapped bundle was nestled against him, his heart grew three sizes. She was already living up to her name, breathing new life into his grizzled soul.

"Love you, baby," he murmured and kissed her downy head.

**A/N 2: Yes, I gave them a girl, which I know is way overdone. But the reason was, house_luvr's adorable and very precious dog is named Zoe. So yes, I named the baby after a dog. LOL**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I bring you fluff. Today's drabble is sponsored by the word "flare."**

She shined her penlight in his eyes, watching as his pupils flared and receded, and then with a heavy sigh, she joked, "I'd check you for brain damage, but then, how would I tell?"

His mouth quirked up in a half-smile, and he rejoined, "Oh you'd like it if I had brain damage. Just think how much more attractive I'd be."

Temper flaring, she frowned at him, and added an extra dose of stinging astringent to the road rash spreading across his left shoulder.

"Ease up there, Florence Nightingale," he muttered with a grimace, and she felt a sudden burst of remorse and sympathy.

"Sorry," she murmured, and he couldn't help but smile at her. Feeling an unexpected flare of affection, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips. He was out the door before she could even respond.


	8. Chapter 8

**Equal**

House watched as she tended an elderly man with yellow teeth and fingers as gnarled as the branches of an ancient tree. The man smiled up at her and she responded with a smile of her own that was equal parts tenderness and empathy. Her ability to connect with pretty much everyone was equal to his own ability to disconnect from... well, most of humanity. At times he both loved her and loathed her in equal measure for that very ability.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Why yes, I can mix metaphors. Why do you ask?**

**Taste**

House is a force of nature; a funnel cloud that sucks everyone in and leaves destruction in its wake. One taste of what he is capable of, and you... well, you became the storm chaser with the thin armor and the pathetic little video camera, trying to understand how he works. But all you've learned is that his cynicism spreads to those around him like a communicable disease. You thought you were immune until you got one taste of his acerbic tongue. Now he's turned you into someone else, and if there is a cure, you're not sure you want it.


	10. Chapter 10

Take

He took, took, took, and she gave, gave, gave. It was a maddening game he played, always testing her limits, but finding thus far that she was limitless, which prompted another round of take, take, take. A vicious circle. She gave him her heart and he took that too. All he could offer her in return was his own heart, atrophied from lack of use though it was. At first it was a joke. _Here, have a useless lump of muscle._ But she took it, working it in her gentle hands until it began to beat again.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: This is like half a drabble. Heh! **

Foe

For a man who liked control, he was a slave to a bottle of little white pills. They brought both relief and agony. They were his salvation and his destruction, necessary for his survival while speeding him toward demise. His bitter, chalky companions were friend and foe alike.


	12. Chapter 12

Around

She was the one person he couldn't be around without softening somehow. A small measure of respect for her always floated to the surface whenever he was in her presence. It wasn't even a conscious decision on his part, but more of an admiration for the way she stood up for her beliefs even in the face of his most intense opposition, when most people folded like corrugated cardboard. It was that quality that made him want to keep her around.

**A/N: Meh. Just as I started this, my husband interrupted and totally killed the mood. :-/**


	13. Chapter 13

Help

When he looks at her, he sees directly into her as if she's made of glass. He sees everything: her fears and insecurities, her love for him. He hurls words like pebbles, leaving tiny chips on the surface of her heart. But once in a while the look he gives her is different, as if he's saying, "Here, have a look inside _me_." Just for a moment she sees all the fractures on his own heart, which makes her love him all the more. It might not be healthy, but she can't help it.


	14. Chapter 14

Close

Her bare back is a canvas of pale, peach skin tempting his fingers to paint invisible images on it. Her ribcage swells and contracts with each breath she takes as she sleeps. He moves one hand, hovering over the subtle slope of her hip, moving down the length of her slender legs and then back. Then he touches her, gently at first and then with enough firmness to pull her against him. Close. Their breathing syncs, though he doesn't sleep. He realizes, not for the first time, that she's as close as he'll ever get to happiness.


	15. Chapter 15

Cross

In the shop window, gleaming gold and silver stand out against their black velvet backdrops and he suddenly finds himself contemplating the women in his life, and their jewelry.

Stacy wore a silver cross around her neck, a gift from her mother. She was almost never without it, to the point that he had begun associating her with any cross he saw. Good thing he was an atheist; he could avoid them most of the time.

Cuddy rarely wore jewelry around her neck. He sometimes wondered why she didn't have a big blingy arrow pointing straight to her cleavage, but then, she really didn't need it. It was always on display.

On occasion Cameron wore a little diamond tear drop on a silver chain. It was so perfectly... her. And yet it intrigued him, as did almost everything about her. Stepping into the shop, he touches a delicate pair of tear drop earrings, and before he can even register what he's doing, he has pulled out his wallet and purchased them.

**A/N: **I told myself I wasn't going to over-think these drabbles or edit them to death. So... some of them leave me less than satisfied. And, as blueheronz pointed out, I keep doing House's POV. That's just where my brain is at right now, I guess. I wasn't even aware of it. I feel like Cameron suddenly confessing that House is in her head. Heh!


	16. Chapter 16

Other

It was just the other day when he stood over the balcony, the railing beneath his palm held in a death grip as he watched blond Cameron stroll through the lobby and wondered if he was hallucinating. It was just the other day when her fingertips drifted like clouds over the whiskers on his face and she kissed him. It was just the other day when she bandaged his self-inflicted wounds and asked him to stop. It was just the other day when she held his gaze with the tenderest of smiles and told him that some changes were okay. It was just the other day when she pressed his corsage against her breast bone and his eyes lingered over the skin revealed just next to it. Time has no meaning to him anymore. There is only her, and all that she has meant to him. He can't bear what's happened. The changes. The other man in her life. As she marches down the aisle, he marches into Mayfield.

**A/N: This was a stream of consciousness type thing. But... my diehard House/Cameron shipper heart has this whole theory worked out about how House's descent into insanity is related to Cameron's relationship with Chase and subsequent marriage. I can easily find evidence that every canon event is leading toward a House/Cameron pairing. I like to think that it was no accident that as she's getting married, he's entering the psych hospital. I'm sure I'm giving way too much credit to the writers, but let me have my delusions, okay?** ;-)


	17. Chapter 17

Just inside the doorway, House paused, dumbstruck. Across the therapy room, Cameron was contorted, head and shoulders pressed into the mat, butt in the air, and feet touching the mat behind her head like a human triangle. He watched as she held the pose for a moment and then eased her legs down and rolled over onto her stomach. From there, she placed her hands on the floor and rose up on her toes so that she was bent at the waist, stunning little ass facing him and looking extra stunning in skin tight yoga pants. She continued on, performing posture after posture, while he grew more and more aroused. When she finished, she wiped her face with a towel and grinned at him as if she'd known he was there all along.

"Thinking of taking up yoga, House?"

"Only as a spectator sport," he retorted, grinning back.

"That's fine. I'll be here tomorrow, same time," she said with a wink.

"I'm so there," he replied. "I might even be convinced to help you with some of those moves."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, laughing, and then disappeared into the locker room.

_Oh yeah,_ he thought, _I'm so there._


	18. Chapter 18

"Do you like me? I need to know."

While she waited for his answer, she held her breath. It seemed to take forever for him to push the words past his lips. But when he did, it was only one simple word.

"No."

But if the answer was no, then why did it take so long for him to say it? And why was there such longing in his eyes


End file.
